


Toadtails

by taebyte



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Confusion, Fainting, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Hurt!noctis, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Noctis Whump, Noctis using raw magic, Status Aliment, Status Effects, Toad Status, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taebyte/pseuds/taebyte
Summary: With his friends suffering under the Toad status aliment from a nasty hunt gone wrong, and all out of curatives, it's up to Noctis to get them out of the Daurell Caverns and back to the rest area to purchase a cure. But suffering with injuries of his own, that might be trickier than he'd first thought...
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 17
Kudos: 274





	Toadtails

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a thing now... I've been reading a LOT of Noctis whump/hurt!Noctis content recently, and I wanted to add something of my own finally. So... Here it is I guess? Sort of mixed bag of things really: status aliments, major injuries, using raw magic resulting in making everything worse, and of course the ever favourite trope "we have no curatives, oh shit!"

* * *

A billow of dark green gas is the last thing Noctis sees before his world abruptly tilts sideways, the force of a freight train slamming into him, and the sound of Gladio yelling his name fills his ears. He sees the ugly sight of the Mahanaga looming over him, it’s tentacle like snake heads hissing ominously as it rears up in preparation to strike – and Noctis immediately regrets the stupid idea that had been to try and take this daemon on.

Gladio’s weight abruptly leaves him, and he assumes he’s back on his feet jumping back into the fray, which means it’s go time for him too; lest he find himself on the receiving end of one of Gladio’s harsh remarks mid-fight. Struggling with himself, he pushes himself up into a sitting position, the beatings he’d taken previously twinging in protest at his movement, and summons back his sword to his hand. He aims high, ribs (that he’s pretty sure are cracked) protesting, and throws it towards the unguarded torso of the monster. Lucian magic pulls his body forwards, and he follows the weapon, striking down hard. His well-aimed straight meets its target, and Noctis throws what weight he can behind the attack, baring down on it to make the blade sink further into flesh.

A shrill noise sounds from the daemon, and Noctis uses the surprise assault to his advantage, digging deep into the armiger, and pulling a vicious Thundaga he’d over woven together just the other night while they’d been camping. He launches the flask at the writhing creature before him, letting himself drop back down to the cave floor as the flask explodes in a nasty shock of bright light. He has to shield his eyes as the magic takes effect, the daemon before him spasming as it was repeatedly zapped, until finally it went limp. It’s massive body topples as the magic disperses, and Noctis moves back as it hits the ground, disintegrating away in.

His own body gives out from under him, knees hitting the ground as a heavy sigh of relief leaves him. He feels a little scrambled now the adrenalines wearing off, and the hit he’d taken earlier from a well-aimed swipe of the Mahanga’s whip like tail smarts under his clothes. He’s pretty sure he’s entering stasis on top of things too; if the spinning feeling from his head, and general sense of fatigue that’s beginning to set into his bones is anything to go by. He closes his eyes, willing the power of the crystal to come to his aid, but the connections weak at best, and too busy healing over his more physical injuries.

He clicks his tongue in irritation, reaching into the armiger instead – an elixir would have to suffice it seemed. Only he comes up empty handed there, and mentally curses himself for prematurely using one earlier.

“ _Potion will have to do then._ ” He thinks bitterly, and mentally reaches out for one of those instead.

There’s nothing. No potions, no hi-potions, nor any sort of elixirs.

“ _How?!_ ” He can only think in astonishment, mentally wading his way back through their day. Perhaps they’d overdone it, too many fights, and gotten greedy with their supplies. He makes a mental note to mention being more careful, and perhaps a little more frugal.

It’s only then, in the quiet of cursing himself, that he realises he can’t hear the sounds of the others rejoicing their win. Normally Prompto would be whooping to their success by now, and pestering Ignis about the possibility of soft beds for the night. But all that greets Noctis is dark silence when he looks up. His lips part in shock, eyes blinking slowly as he looks about the cavern.

He’s… Alone?

Drawing himself up a little more, as best he can from where he’s kneeling on the ground, he frowns. The cavern really is empty, and eerily silent. He shudders, his stomach churning in panic. There’s no way they would have left him by himself, he’s fairly certain of that. He’s pretty sure Gladio for one would rather fall on his own sword before he abandoned his duty as Noctis’s shield; the Amicitia family pride of being the longstanding chosen blood as Shields to the Caelum royal family ran too deep.

“Guys?” He hears himself call out, scanning across the ground fearfully for any fallen bodies, and grimaces when he comes up short.

Instead of the sounds of his friends, a different sound replies to his calling, a round of croaking that echoes off the walls much as his voice had.

Croaking?

He startles at the sight of three toads bounding towards him, each looking a little frantic as they make haste towards him. A faint instinct tells him to move for just a moment, self-preservation cutting through the murky sludge his mind had become. But toads... They weren’t exactly red giant levels of danger to him.

“Hm, where did you guys come from?” He asks, staring down at the small amphibians now sat before him. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen-”

He stops short, staring about as hard as he can manage at the biggest of the toads, before gently reaching down, and cupping his hands beneath it, lifting it slowly to his face to inspect it closer. The toad stares back at him, large eyes gazing back at him with just as much scrutiny as Noctis is giving it. There, a faint mark, or scar, trailing down from the top of it’s eye all the way to just beneath it. He startles, glancing down to the other two toads, and spotting ring shaped marking around the eyes of the one that had been sitting in the middle of the trio, and then the dusting of little spot like markings much akin to freckles across the remaining one.

He breathes sharply as it all clicks into place within his mind. The green gas that had spewed across the cave from the Daemon, Gladio knocking him out of the way, the three toads now sat before him, and the lack of presence of his three companions.

“ _Gladio?!_ ” He asks the toad still settled in his palms, staring back at it with horrified amazement.

The toad croaks at him - and was that an eye roll? 

“ _Astrals_.” Noctis breathed, and then chuckles, curling over on him in amusement.

He wants to press a hand to his mouth to conceal his laughter, but with Gladio still sat within his hands he can’t, and he ends up giggling at the floor as he revels in the hilarity of the situation. His display of amusement garners him a round of busy croaks from all three of his toad-turned companions, and he heaves a sigh, now feeling more worn than before from his exerted laughter. He settles a fond smile upon them, and gently sets Gladio back to the floor.

“Alright, I give.” He tells him. “I’ll change you back – one second.”

He opens his palm in front of him and closes his eyes. It takes more than it should to reach into the armiger. He can only blame his current poor state of body, and the drained pool of magic that he’s running on. However, that aside, when he reaches for a Maidens Kiss curative, he’s surprised when he comes up empty handed.

“Uh...” He fumbles, frowning at his empty hand, Ignis offering a single croak that he swears sounds questioning. “Maybe I won’t change you back.” He offers lamely, cringing when the three toads before him begin croaking furiously at him. “Hey! I can’t help it! There’s no Maidens Kiss in the armiger. I guess we didn’t stock up on any last time we were shopping...”

The excuse sounds lame even to him. He was the who usually did their stock check – what with the armiger being an extension of him. The thought draws a solid lump of guilt to his stomach, settling down with the weight of a large rock.

He sighs, the force of it catching and making him cough. A warm wetness erupts from the back of his throat, and he swallows it back quickly, a metallic tang tingling across his taste buds as he does. He can’t help but make a face at the taste of it, and waves off the stares of the three toads directed at him.

“It’s alright.” He tells him. “I’ll just have to go and buy some, right? Who knows, by the time we make it back it might have worn off anyway.”

He hopes he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels and sets his hands behind him to push himself up to his feet. His movements are a little shaky, and he has to stretch his hands out to steady himself for a moment as the world swirls around him. But once up, he takes note of their way out, and glances down to his friends.

Toads... Right.

“Come here.” He says gently, reaching down with open palms to them. “There’s no way I’m letting you hop about and risking you falling prey to anything hoping for a quick meal.” He explains as Gladio attempts to leap out of reach.

Prompto ends up sitting atop his head, stretched out with his webbed feet dangling down off the back of Noctis’s head. Ignis, and Gladio opt for letting Noctis simple cradle them to his chest like two living teddy bears. He wonders if he should feel a little more ridiculous then he does, carting around three toads like a 5-year-old hunting down the wonders of his backyard. But the worry of his friends becoming lost to him overrides his usual attempts of looking cool for once.

Playfully he pokes Gladio’s head as the toad attempts to struggle in his grip. The movement halts any further wriggling, and Noctis laughs softly.

“You’re going to have to let me shield you for once.” Noctis tells him as he stumbles forward. “No offence, but I don’t think you’d be much of a good guard to me right now.”

A single croak is all the answer he gets.

It feels like an eternity before he sees any sort of daylight again. Stumbling around within the dark with only a single light is more difficult than he’d imagined it, made even harder by the fact that he’s having to navigate back by himself. His ribs are screaming at him to do something about them, and his breaths are becoming more and more ragged to his own ears. Ignis was likely two missteps away from having an aneurysm – even in toad form. The only person, or rather _toad_ , that seemed ok with the situation was Prompto; who was yet to move from the spot he’d procured atop Noctis’s head. He seemed rather content where he was and hadn’t made half the fuss both Ignis and Gladio had every time Noctis placed his foot down wrong, and nearly went face first to the floor.

Its nearly dark out when he makes it to the mouth of the Daurell Caverns, the sky blanketed by a swathe of dark clouds, and a steady shower of rain is falling across the landscape. The picture makes Noctis’s shoulder slump a little, and he takes a heaving breath from where he’d stood sheltered only by a canopy of rock that formed the mouth of cave.

What does he do, he thinks nervously, cuddling the two toads in his arms closer to him as an uncharacteristic feeling of vulnerability washes over him.

It’s nearly dark out, and that meant that daemons would be more active, and any attempts to drive the car anywhere would likely result in coming face to face with a giant at some point, and to be honest, he’s not particularly confident that he can even remember where they’d left the car earlier anyway. But there again, staying put would also more than likely end in him meeting with the night-time residents that roamed these parts; and Astrals forbid there were any Coeurls lurking nearby in wait. He doesn’t think he could fight his own reflection in a pool of water right now, let alone anything that was actually out to do him harm.

“ _But..._ ” He thinks, glancing down to his friends still huddled in his arms, both looking up at him silently.

He needs to get them curatives. They’re just as defenceless as him right now – perhaps even more so given their current forms. Plus, Noctis knows beyond all else, that if roles were reversed, they would do all within their power to get him whatever he needed.

His best bet is to head towards the Taelpar Rest Area outpost just west of where he is. He faintly remembers a vendor there who more definitely sell what he needed, and there’s a motel there for sure where Noctis can pass out within once his friends are back in human form. He just needed to make it there as quickly as he can, and without further incident if he can help it.

Biting his lip, he takes another glance out into the rain, and steels himself. Shoulders pushed back, and head held high, he thinks back to his father’s parting words as he’d left the safety of the Citadel.

“ _Walk tall._ ”

-X-

He wonders if this had been the situation his father had had in mind when he’d offered those parting words atop of the steps of the Citadel. His son, soaking wet, littered with multiple injuries, pushed well into the realms of stasis, while barely aware of where he was placing his feet, and cradling toaded friends in his arms as he trekked across the sodden grounds of Duscae in search of a couple of vials of Maidens Kiss.

He doesn’t think so somehow.

Trying to keep to the wooden areas of the landscape, he can’t help but feel bitter as he drags himself along. The distance hadn’t seemed that far this morning as they’d ran across it. But now, each step he takes feels like an achievement worth celebrating. He’s hoping the trees will offer him some much needed camouflage from anything prowling about, and cover for if anything _does_ spot him. Above him, he hears the dull rumble of thunder sound, and although he can’t feel the crackle of Ramuh’s magic surging through him, he hopes at least the grandfather like Astral is looking out for him.

Though, he has to rethink that thought a moment later when the toe of his boot snags against an exposed root. His body jerks, mind unable to fathom the situation as the ground surges up towards him. No, _he’s_ surging _towards_ the ground.

His arms fly out, mind ignoring the constant thought that had previously been his friends tucked within his arms, and he hears a round of frantic croaking sound out around him. His foot, the one not currently trapped under the clutches of the root, jerks out to try and catch him, but the water logged ground beneath his feet foils him, and his normally reliable grip on the bottom of his boots gives under the loose mud he’s pressing against. He’s sliding before he had chance to try and stop himself, balance lost as he stumbles from the sudden turn in direction yanking his trapped foot loose, and falls sideways to his left, tumbling over a ledge, and down a steep slope. He hits several rocks on his way down, pain exploding from his already injured ribs, a scream that he’s unable to silence tearing from his lips. The same pain is everywhere a moment later, bruises forming upon bruises, cuts and tears torn across his clothes and bare flesh. The pinball effect then stops, his body coming to a stop finally at the foot of the steep hill, and his mind tries to take stock of his body. But it can’t, and he’s left frowning, blinking, sending messages to his body to _move_. But he can’t, and now it seems darkness is closing in around him, something heavy pulling him under...

Somethings hitting him. No, there are _things_ hitting him – repeatedly. Croaking bleating like a constant alarm against his ears. Frogs?

His eyes part, only opening to half-mast as he takes in of his surroundings. He’s on his stomach, head twisted to the side, and body feeling as though it had been repeatedly run over by the Regalia. Where the _hell_ was he, and what the hell had happened for him to feel so shit?

Something small jumps into his line of vision. A frog- No, bigger, a _toad,_ with a splattering of freckle like markings littered across it’s face. It croaks frantically at him – could toads even _be_ frantic?

Then two more appear, whatever was hitting him before abruptly stops with it’s assault, and he wonders if these toads had been jumping atop of him prior. They too, croak at him, sitting staring at him as though waiting for him to do something. For the life of him he can’t figure out what.

“Everything hurts...” He hears himself mumble, and winces as he slowly lifts his hands from the ground.

It’s raining, the heavy drops cascading down on him, washing away blood that was caked across his skin, to reveal multiple lacerations. _Astrals,_ what had _happened_ to him? He goes to push himself into a kneeling position, but a sharp, _violent_ , pain stops him dead. His whole-body tenses up, face screwing up, and he lets out an agonised scream, the control of his vocal cords snatched from him as the sound echoes around him. Instantly, like reflex, his hands shoot to his leg to stop the pain at its epicentre – but that only makes it worse, and his ribs cry out in twinned pain with his leg as he stretches forward.

“ _S-shit!_ ” He warbles, lips wobbling as he tries and fails to keep tears at bay, deep shaky breathes pulling from him.

He’s going to be sick. He can feel it.

Lurching his torso to the side, he retches, bracing his hands against the ground. It’s vile, and he can’t for the life of him even begin to wonder what he’s bringing up. But there’s blood, a lot of it, combined with Astrals knows what else.

He nearly collapses back to the ground once he’s done, exhausted from the effort that had only been to empty his body. But the noise of faint croaking that breaks past the thrum of blood rushing past his ears stops him, holding his attention enough to let the wave of dizziness pass.

“Wha-” He goes to say, frowning weakly at the toads still settled near his side. “What are you doing?” He asks dumbly.

Nothing comes from them, they simply state at him as though stunned into silence for a moment, and he can only stare back, his mind niggling uncomfortably. Toads... Something to do with toads, and kisses?

Carefully, he reaches down, scooping the three of them up, feeling genuinely surprised when they let him, and brings them closer for inspection. Freckles, a scar, and glasses markings... Toads, and kisses... A fight? Green gas, and the sound of someone shouting his name...

“Maidens Kiss!” He shouts, a blast of memories assaulting him as he stares wide-eyed at the toaded forms of his friends. “Right, that’s what we’re doing.” He states, though more to himself then he friends. “Focus, focus...”

He straightens himself up the best he can, attempting to shuffle back until his back hits back against the cliff he’d just tumbled down from. He then draws his attention back to the toads still patiently sitting in his palms, noticing a slight cut across the top of Gladio’s head. Gently he brushes a thumb across it, frowning in concern.

“Are you guys ok?” He asks gently, a bubble of concern worming itself way up his chest.

If he’d taken such a tumble and come out on the other side in the state he was, then he dreads what had happened to the other three, even if they _look_ okay on the surface.

There doesn’t seem to be any complaint from his friends, and Noctis sighs in relief, smiling at them as best he can.

“That’s good.” He tells them gently. “Honestly, I’m glad about that. We don’t have any potions in the armiger as it is, and I’m not entirely sure if they’d do you any good in this state anyway…”

He’s about to set them down when Ignis surprises him by leaping down from his palms. The glasses ringed toad leaps over his good leg and jumps to the uninjured section of his thigh on the damaged leg, squatting there and looking back to him with a single croak. Noctis already knows what he’s trying to draw attention to, and brings Gladio, and Prompto to sit in his palms in his lap.

“I know.” He tells Ignis, sighing heavily. “We’re really a mess, right?” He adds, leaning his head back against the wall and looking to the sky. “I… I don’t know what to do.”

The admission leaves him feeling hollow.

For the first time in his life, he’s alone. Perhaps not in the sense of company, but there’s no one to help him. It’s… Not something he’s used to. If he were back within the safety of Insomnia, before the disaster that was the treaty signing, he’d have the pick of anyone within the Citadel at his beck and call. It wasn’t a privilege that he often, if at all, relied upon. But it had meant that he’d never been left in the position of not knowing what to do in any given situation. If he needed help, then any number of people were there in an instant to provide it.

He’d never wanted for anything…

But now. Now he was alone, with not only his own life at stake, but also the three lives of his friends. Each decision he made from here on until they made it to safety could really end up with one of the dead. It’s a sobering thought.

Was this the weight of the king? Had his father felt like this each day, the solid reminder of the Ring of the Lucii sitting on his finger like a physical reminder of his impending death?

A croak brings his head dropping back down to look down in his lap, one of Prompto’s webbed feet pressing against the inside of his wrist. He looks to him, to Gladio, and Ignis.

No, he’s not alone. But he does have a responsibility to meet.

“Thank you.” He says gently to them. “I didn’t… I should have said it sooner.”

He reaches out and pets each of their heads carefully, trying his best to focus.

“I know I’m not exactly _easy_ to deal with, and I cause you guys a lot of trouble at the best of times. But, I’m really grateful to you, for being here, for putting up with me, for helping me even when I’m being a brat. You guys really… You’re the best I could ask for.” He admits, lips tugging into something wistful as he meets gazes with his silent friends. “I’m not sure if you’ll remember any of this when you change back... I suppose, if you don’t, I should say it again...” He adds, eyes feeling heavy, and closing as he listens to the rain still falling from above. “After all, magics weird like that, right?”

Magic...

His eyes snap open abruptly, and he stares down at his injured leg apprehensively, before he worries his lip in contemplation. He’s not... It’s been a _while._ But maybe...

Hands reach out for Ignis, and he scoops him up, placing besides Gladio and Prompto.

“Alright, it’s worth a shot.” He breathes, and presses his hands together, rubbing them gently to create a little friction. “I have an idea – but I need you guys to do me a favour for it to work.”

He pointedly turns his gaze to settle on Ignis, smirking weakly when the toad stares back him. He can already imagine the look that he’d be on the receiving end of if Ignis were beside him as a human right now. Narrowed eyes, and clipped retort of “no” falling from his lips.

“You’re not going to like it. But, I really don’t have much choice at this point. There’s no way I’m going anywhere with my leg in this shape, and I think I might be at risk of bleeding out if I stay here all night, and then for whatever reason you guys are still... Toads.” He pauses, giving himself chance to catch his breath, and wincing when his ribs twinge. “So, I’m going to try and conjure raw magic.”

Instantly both Ignis and Gladio begin croaking at him, Ignis jumping up and down frantically. He blinks, surprised for a moment by the outburst, but then smiles fondly, reaching out to settle a hand stop of Ignis's bouncing form.

“It’s alright.” He laughs, something which rolls into a cough when something warm and wet catches at the back of his throat – blood, he then finds when his hand moves to his lips to conceal the action out of royal instinct. “I won’t... I’m going to try and not pull too much from the crystal. But, I _know_ for sure that I’ll pass out. When that happens, I need you guys to wake me up.” He tells them, glancing between each of them with a serious expression. “Whatever happens you _have_ to wake up. There’s a chance that if I’m out too long the crystal might pull me into a magic induced coma to try and fully heal me due to the extent of my injuries. So, it’s kinda vital that that doesn’t happen. Whatever it takes _wake me up_.”

That said he scoops Gladio up, and places him on his thigh in line with his injured leg, and rolls back the leg of his pants. The actions a bit of a struggle, and he feels sick again once more as he gets an eyeful of the extend of the injury. In an instant he knows that it’s going to take a hefty amount of magic to fix – and that was just the surface damage. Once he’s managed to roll back the fabric enough so as he’s got a decent visual of what he’s working with, he gestures Gladio to the area. 

“Do I need to set anything? Or is it ok?” He asks Gladio, feeling a little awkward a moment later when Gladio simply stares back at him – communication was clearly going to be an issue. “Uh, croak once for yes, and two for no.”

Gladio tilts his head, hopping once a little way down his thigh to get a better look, and then over to the other side to check there too. He takes a moment, reaching out and pressing a webbed foot along the skin of Noctis’s leg, and then looks up to him, croaking two separate times.

“Good.” Noctis says, sighing in relief. “That’s good.”

He’d _really_ not been keen on the idea of having to set bone back into place. Not only was he not all that confident at doing it, but he knew it to hurt like a bolt of Ramuh’s lightning to the head.

Leg given the all clear from Gladio on the bone front, he stretches forward as best he can, and places his palms gently to his leg. Steeling himself, he closes his eyes, and opens a connection directly to the crystal. It’s not great, shaky a best, but it’s there, a wire thin string linking them together. Had he not been attacked as a child, sitting on deaths door for so long, his connection to the crystal would have been far stronger. His _magic_ would have been far stronger. For now, he has to make do with setting his magic into flasks. But during his childhood, before the attack, he’d been capable of performing reasonable magic for his age – healing magic included.

Reaching back to that time in his life, he pulls against the connection to the crystal, stealing it’s attention from very slowly drip feeding him magic to heal his other injuries, and demands a rush of magic to heal his leg specifically. It’s overwhelming, like being thrown as a torrent of hot water, or the swell of an angry tide. He grits his teeth, trying to control the rush of magic that surges to his fingers, shaping and manipulating it into cure magic. He can see the glow of healing green behind his eyes lids and _feels_ the way his leg starts to repair itself under his fingertips, and _oh thank the Astrals_.

It was _working._

Relaxing under the knowledge, he feels the strain that his anxiety had been pushing back spill forward abruptly, and panics as he connection wanes, flicking unsteadily like a flame caught within a gust of wind. His mind feels muddled, and his face twitches as he struggles to keep himself upright. His hearts hammering within the cage of his chest, breathing feeling like an effort as he drags each breath past his lips. He can’t maintain it for much longer. His body was beginning to crack, blood rushing past his ears as he screws his eyes shut. Something warm trickles from his nose, tasting metallic as he swipes his tongue out to catch it, and he grimaces. Blood.

He can hear his friends, their distance collective croaking of alarm reaching his ears over the sound of his own heart. The blood had set them off, fear for what he was doing, what it was doing to _him._ But they sound so far away. So out of reach. Had they left him?

No... They’re...

-X-

He breathes, as though he’d been underwater for a while. Eyes snap open, darting down to his lap where three toads are currently bouncing atop of him. He’s slumped against a muddy slope, soaked through from the rain still falling-

Toads, Maidens Kiss, falling, _magic_.

“ _Shit!_ ” He jerks up, tears springing as his remaining injuries protest as his jerky movement.

His first instinct is to check his leg, eyes drooping down to stare at where his pant leg is still drawn up. His fingers hover of pale smooth flesh, pressing lightly against the muscles there, and prodding around his knee. There’s feeling, but no pain.

“It worked.” He states blankly, in awe of his achievement. “It actually _worked_.”

Eyes pull to his friends, lips tugging into a dazed smile as he scoops them up to hug them close and laughs. His head still feels like it’s splitting open, and he can feel something warm and wet sliding down his temple, but _he’d done it!_ He’d really managed to perform raw magic – and healing magic at that.

“Ok, up we go.” He announces, setting Promoto atop his head, and pushing himself up, bracing himself against the muddy slope behind him. “I think... We were heading this way, right?” He asks, pointing vaguely to his right.

Ignis croaks back at him, and Noctis nods his head, leaning down to scoop up him, and Gladio. He teddy carries then again, stumbling forward, and trying to keep his weary eyes open. He’s desperate for sleep, desperate to _rest_ , his adventures with tugging on the crystal, demanding _way_ more than he should, had left him beyond the point of drained, and depleted what little magic he’d regained from entering stasis previously. In fact, he’s pretty damn sure he’s exhausted himself right back into the dangerous realms of stasis once more. The thought makes him cringe, well aware that he could further damage his connection to the crystal if he kept draining himself this way. His father’s warnings circle about his mind in hazy pearls of past wisdom, a voice made to comfort speaking words that were slowly invoking distracting strings of anxiety to pull across his already frazzled mind.

Attempting to push the worrying thoughts to back burner of his brain, he tears his line of sight upwards to the dark horizon ahead of them and catches sight of a smattering of lights glittering before them. Taelpar Rest Area outpost was just up ahead. The sight brings forth a flutter of feelings and his chest catches on an emotion of elation. Finally, civilisation! That also meant a merchant, which meant Maidens Kiss, which meant finally, _finally_ , he could cure his friends.

“Do you see it?” He whispers, voice sounds horse against his ears. “There’s lights over there. We can get you all cured up soon.”

Which is good, because when he takes a deep breath in, the effort of talking making his chest feel tight and lacking enough air, he coughs from the sharp bite of the cold that comes with it. He’s gasping, coming to an abrupt stop, as he lifts a hand to his mouth to catch the liquid that’s rushing up from his throat, juggling his friends with his other arm as best he can. His hand draws back blood from his mouth, some of it dripping from the corner of his mouth and smearing across his lips. He stares at it, vision fogging again as his head swims. He wants to pass out, his mind is practically begging for it, but he can’t.

There’s a sharp series of croaking from his arms and he looks down to see both Gladio and Ignis staring back at him. He laughs, the noise sounding watery, already knowing what they’re trying to convey to him.

“I’m fine!” He tells them, hugging them to his chest a little tighter. “I’ll... I’ll rest up as soon as you guys are sorted. A good night’s sleep should patch me up.”

Its... A lie. He’s well aware it’s going to take more than a quick overnight nap to fix him up. But he’s keen to see his friends sorted before anything else, and it’s not lost on him that he’s probably shortened all of their lives by a good 5 years with the stunts his pulled tonight. Ignis in particular is probably all too keen to mother him once he’s able to. His twitchiness even in toad form was all too apparent.

All that lies between him and that treatment now is a wide stretch of land that feels like it’s sprawled out for miles before him.

He blames his battered mental state, and lack of coordination. But as he stumbles his was up to the road, breathing laboured, and body screaming at him to just _stop_ , he realises that he suddenly can’t even remember dragging himself across the distance. His minds solely focused on finding a vendor, and as he makes his way across the asphalt, he’s fairly sure he can already spot one. The same guy they’d seen that morning as they’d headed out into the wilderness. The one with the red truck, and a mean look in his eye. But that truck now seemed to _glow_ within Noctis’s blurring line of sight, looking like a dim light of hope within a greyscale world as he stumbles toward it.

The man sat in front of the truck stares at him in abashed horror when he spots Noctis, mouth open wide in shock at his appearance before pulling into a winced look. He automatically jumps to his feet, turning to his truck and grabbing potions frantically. Noctis watches him as he approaches closer, and shakes his head when he immediately offers them to him; regretting when his mind swims, body swaying as it yearns to let him fall into the bliss of unconsciousness that his mind keeps offering.

“I need... I need Maidens Kiss.” He says, voice rasping over the request.

He tries to clear his throat, the action only serving to gunk it up worse, and he coughs as a result, lifting a shaky hand to his mouth. Once more it comes away stained red and dripping with his own blood. He frowns at it, looking back up to the concerned expression drawn across the vendor’s face.

He realises he must look a sight. Covered in his own blood, streaks of it smeared across his face, clothes torn and equally bloodied in places, soaking wet from head to toe, and cradling two toads within his arms like treasured toys, a third set atop his head.

“I think you need more than that kid.” The guy mumbles. “Here, take the Maidens Kiss, but make sure you down at _least_ two of these once you’re done.” He tells him sternly, pushing three vials of Maidens Kiss and two hi-potions at him. “Make sure he does.” He adds, aiming the comment towards the toads still decorating Noctis’s frame. “I’ll personally come and crack them for you if you need it.”

Noctis nods weakly at him, eyelids dropping to half-mast as he places Gladio and Ignis to the ground, and takes the offered purchases from the vendor, leaving behind the proper payment. He turns to walk away, offering a grateful thank you over his shoulder, and looking down to Ignis and Gladio.

“Come on.”

He drops to his knees a little distance away, just offside of the outpost, choosing a good spot up near a chain link fence, under the safety of a streetlight, and sets down Prompto to the floor. Both Gladio, and Ignis hop to settle either side of him, looking to Noctis expectantly as he drops down the vials of Maidens Kiss and hi-potions. They clink together as they drop, and Noctis spends a moment staring at them as his vision swims. His hand hovers over one of the vials, confusion setting in as the vials and hi-potions blur together. He winces, trying in vain to focus his sight when something nudges against his hand. Blinking furiously, he lifts his head, and stares at the sight of Prompto with a single vial held within his mouth.

Noctis smiles, opening his palm before his toaded friend, and feels the weight of the vial drop into his hand. A little fiddling with the cork later, the curative is ready to go. With shaky hands he drops a couple of drips atop each of their heads before corking the rest and waits. It takes a moment for the magic to set in, but before long each one of them bursts into a cloud of sparking green, and Noctis is left kneeling before a restored Crownsguard.

Relief floods him like a shot of hi-potion straight to the source of a dramatic injury, and his aching muscles, drawn tight with the stress of simply wanting to _fix_ the situation, all seem to relax at once, leaving him to soak in the aches, pain, and dizziness from his collective injuries.

“Oh... It worked... Thank the Astrals...” He breathes, smiling sleepily within the face of his horrified friends, who stare at him with varying looks of alarm as he sways.

His vision then tunnels, his friends tilting to the side, and he frowns before belatedly realising that it’s not them who are tilting – it’s _him_. Alarmed shouting rings in his ears, Gladio’s hulking form rushing to catch him, and Ignis’s voice giving out instructions. He catches the tail end of Prompto’s high pitched panic asking something about potions, but it blurs out to nothing. He can feel Gladio’s hands on him, a palm pressed against the back of his head tenderly, and he manages to catch his crestfallen expression briefly before his vision descends into black, head dropping into the crook of his elbow.

-X-

His body doesn’t hurt when he comes to. There’s a little soreness that twinges into an ache when he shifts his leg, but it’s certainly nothing compared to the agony from before. He smiles at the thought discreetly, already knowing that it’s likely thanks to Ignis’s usual quick application of medical knowledge. He’d likely known what to do as soon as he’d been faced with his battered state. Though a sharp twang of guilt immediately niggles at him with that thought.

“ _He shouldn’t have been faced with that to begin with..._ ” He tells himself and presses himself further under the covers that he’s currently tucked into.

However, there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s going to be on the receiving end of a pretty lengthy talking to once Ignis is aware that he’s awake – Gladio too. He faintly wonders if he could just lull himself back to sleep now to avoid it for a little longer...

“Your Highness? Are you awake?”

Ah, maybe not then.

He rolls over, blinking curiously up at Ignis, who’s stood with a glass between his palms. An expression of concern is drawn across his face, his eyes ringed with dark shadows. His appearance alone makes Noctis cringe further down into his sheets, and he worries his lip at the sight.

“Yeah...” He can only answer hoarsely, throat dry and scratchy from disuse.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Ignis sighs, looking beyond relieved as he sits down on the each of the bed. “You’ve been asleep for a long time now. How are you feeling? Any pain anywhere?”

“No, I’m fine.” Noctis tells him, taking a quick moment to take stock of where he actually is.

It looks like a trailer, one of the ones they sometimes rented out while between places and not so hard up on cash. Gladio much preferred camping where they could, but sometimes Noctis and Prompto managed to twist his arm with their combined whining to splurge a little to sleep on a bed of decent comfort for a while.

“You are certainly _not_ fine!” Ignis tells him heatedly, and Noctis whips his head back in surprise to his Advisor, eyes wide at the sudden raised tone.

He knows that there’s underlying worry, stress, and lack of sleep tucked within that tone. But it wasn’t often that Noctis heard him speak like that, and Ignis’s seems to realise it too a moment later, his face softening into something remorseful.

“My apologies Your Highness. I-”

“Hey, Iggy! Everything alright in there?”

Noctis turns his head to see Gladio stood in the doorway to the camper, eyes wide and full of disbelief as they land on Noctis, Prompto’s head peering around him with a matching expression.

“Noct!” Prompto shouts, pushing around and past Gladio, and nearly stumbling over the step up into the camper in his haste. “You’re awake!” He cries further, launching himself down to sit at the end of the bed, his hands raised and clearly looking to hug him, touch him, anything it seems.

However, he drops them a moment later, seemingly hesitant, almost as though he’d been warned prior not to touch Noctis; and Noctis can image that warning had come from Ignis and his worries over any number of Noctis’s wounds being disturbed from the lightest of contact.

“Yeah, it seems so,” Noctis offers to Prompto’s loud excitement. “And it looks like you guys are back to normal too.”

“Ha, yeah, no thanks to _you!_ ” Prompto tells him, yelping when Gladio comes to join them and shoves at Prompto playfully in order to get him to move over.

“How are you feeling?” Is the first thing out of his Sheild’s mouth, and Noctis feels a wry smile tug at his lips.

“I’m fine-”

“As I was saying before,” Ignis starts once more, eyes stern as he catches Noctis’s gaze. “You are most certainly _not_ fine - you’ve been asleep for almost _three_ days now.”

Once again, the air feels heavy, and Noctis clutches at the sheets, expression pulling back into something grim. _Three_ days? The thought has him cringing internally at the thought of losing so much time, and he steels himself for the onslaught he knows is fast approaching like a freight train.

“What… What do you remember exactly?” Noctis asks hesitantly, not daring to look at his friends as he goes over his own memories, wincing as he realises that some parts are a little blurred even to him.

“Even though we were toaded, we still can remember everything.” Gladio admits, and Noctis whips his head to stare at him in surprise – he can’t say he’d been expecting that.

“It’s true!” Promoto cuts in, backing up Gladio’s admission with a strained expression. “Even when you…” He trails off, eyes finding comfort within the mounds of blankets adorning the bed.

“Ah…” Noctis sighs, already having a good idea what Prompto’s referring to. “The raw magic.” He offers, taking pity in the pained expression pulling across his best friend’s face. “I’m sorry about that, about putting you through that. But I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again.”

Ignis goes to protest, but Noctis silences him with a sharp look, shaking his head at him.

“I would do it again, because we had to move, had to get back to town. If I hadn’t of done it then… We’d have been sitting ducks. You can’t deny that.”

“No,” Gladio agrees, though he doesn’t sound happy about having to. “But that doesn’t mean it should have happened in the first place.”

Noctis snorts at him, raising the leg he hadn’t injured through his own muddled walking, and wraps his arms around it, hooking his chin atop of it and smirking.

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling guilty?” He asks, his teasing expression fast fading when Gladio only drops a grim look to the ground. “ _Seriously?_ ”

“Noctis you were _screaming_.” Ignis tells him. “You were in so much pain, there was so much _blood_ , and we couldn’t do anything to help you, something that both Gladio and myself have been trained our whole lives to do. Then, after you managed to have us cured, we were met with you bleeding out, barely conscious, and sporting various other injures that were in dire need of attention.”

“Gonna’ be hearing you screaming in my head for weeks…” Gladio mutters beside him, eyes narrowed and trained down at the floor.

Hearing it like that only serves to send his friend’s spiralling guilt turning on him instead, and he sucks in a breath. It strikes him suddenly that he’s not being lectured for his actions, but instead his friends are feeling _apologetic_ for what had happened.

Oh _Astrals_ _no._

“It was really bad dude.” Prompto agrees, his voice barely above a whisper as he gives Noctis perhaps the most subdued, and _guilty_ , looks that Noctis has ever seen grace his features.

“You’re _not_ allowed to feel bad for that.” Noctis tells them sternly and shakes his head to cement the point. “Whatever happened to me was my _own_ fault, no one else’s.” He says firmly, knocking a hand against Prompto’s arm when he looks away with a mournful expression. “I mean it! I used our resources too frivolously, so when it really did come to needing them, I didn’t have anything to fall back on. Plus, Gladio stopped me from being toaded when we were fighting the Mahanaga before, and so what if Ignis and you got hit by it. These things are going to happen, right? I’m going to get hurt. We’re _all_ going to get hurt at some point. But I’m alive, and you guys are alive, and _that_ is what’s important. None of this isn’t anything that a couple of hi-potions, and another few more nights of good sleep won’t fix.”

His tirade is met with hesitant looks, ones that Noctis meets with equal conviction. He knows the guilt will fester with them still for some time, and Noctis knows that if roles had been reserved that he’d likely feel the same. It may not sit right with him, but he’d not exactly in the best position to deny them their time to mope over what had happened. That being said, he’s not going to keep quiet on the matter either. He’d sticking to his own words.

“Well, if that’s how our Princess feels-” Gladio goes to say, the barest hints of a smile pulling on his lips.

“It is.” Noctis stubbornly interjects, shooting Gladio daggers with his eyes for the “Princess” comment – when was he going to give that one up?

“That may be.” Ignis huffs, smoothing his feature into something a little less guilty, and more business as usual. “But next time we decide to go hunting like that, I advise we stock up properly. This whole ordeal could have been easily avoided with a little forethought.”

“Yeah,” Noctis agrees, flopping back against the pillows stuffed behind him, and wincing when his back twinges. “But that also might be my fault too – seeing as I’m in charge of stock take.”

Ignis gives him a withering look, offering another potion for the wince he’d definitely just caught flicking across Noctis’s face. Noctis takes it with a grateful look, and cracks it within his palm, sighing as the healing mist sinks deep into his bones.

“Oh, isn’t there something you wanted to tell us buddy?” Prompto pipes up, nudging Noctis with his foot, a cheshire cat grin creeping across his face.

“Hm?” Noctis hums at him, peeking his eyes open from where they’d been falling closed from the warm haze left behind by the potion he’d just taken.

“Oh yeah,” Gladio agrees thoughtfully. “There _was_ something like that, wasn’t there?” A shit eating grin of his own directed towards Noctis – one that has Noctis pulling back from the sleep he’d been about to let himself slide into the embrace of.

“Oh, yes I remember that.” Ignis chimes. “Something about how grateful you are to us I believe?”

Noctis can practically _feel_ himself turning red, his cheeks stinging with the burn of embarrassment as he remembers deliriously self-confessing his most inner, and honest, thoughts to his toaded friends. He swallows nervously, worried that they might want a re-do from him, and finds himself covering his mouth with his palm, turning his head to stare out of the window, stubbornly refusing to meet their gazes.

“I think… I might have been a little out of it. I don’t really remember what I said.” He says quickly. “Whatever I said was probably just me rambling – I had a head injury remember?”

“Oh no, I think you were being rather honest, Your Highness.” Ignis tells him, a rare smirk taking shape across his lips when Noctis glances at him.

He says nothing, shrinking a tad when both Gladio, and Prompto, burst into laughter at his characteristic silence.

“You guys suck.” He mutters thinly, but after a moment can’t help but indulge in a fond smile of his own.

* * *


End file.
